


Lazarus Risen

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:50:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6072885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard's responsibility as the commander of the suicide mission through the Omega-4 Relay is to clear his crew's heads before they make the trip. He needs to practice what he preaches. </p>
<p>Or, 'the one with Shepard's loyalty mission.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazarus Risen

**Author's Note:**

> A third alternative title for this could be 'including an explanation for why all of Shepard's squad goes with them while the Normandy gets ambushed by Collectors,' though that'd be more of a mouthful. But seriously, this is me killing two birds with one stone - where'd they go that left the Normandy defenseless, and why is there no serious follow up to the fact that Shepard DIED and was resurrected?

The coffee on Shepard’s desk had gone cold. Despite that, he mindlessly reached for it, taking a sip. He then almost immediately gagged. It was the twenty-second century, and they’d reach the twenty-third in less than two decades. Humanity had reached the stars. They’d gained a seat on the most powerful political body in the galaxy. And yet they couldn’t make coffee that either stayed warm or could be tolerable when cold. Something was wrong with someone’s priorities...

He sighed, dumping the coffee in the sink in the washroom. Returning to his desk, he shot a glance at the clock. It was midnight, and, if his dates were correct, it was now four months since he’d woken up on that table on Lazarus Station. Four months since he’d started this suicide mission for Cerberus. No wonder his reflection looked so haunted. Four months of the bare minimum of sleep could do that to a person. He just couldn’t take spending too much time asleep. Too many ghosts haunting him, demanding an explanation for him working with Cerberus. 

The sleeplessness wasn’t likely to be resolved tonight, either. After all, now he was working with a damn geth, and, even though he... it... they... whatever pronoun applied, said that the geth who’d attacked the Citadel were a splinter faction, a splinter faction he’d just helped blow to hell, the geth still had attacked the Citadel. And now he’d done a geth a favor. It was a good thing he’d already gotten used to sleepless nights, because by now, he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

He knew he couldn’t keep doing this. Staying awake until the point of passing out from exhaustion and waking up from unpleasant nightmares after an hour or two was going to bite him in the ass. He’d be lucky if he didn’t get killed before they went through the Omega-4 Relay. But there wasn’t a lot that he could do about it. He could probably get something from Doctor Chakwas for getting to sleep, but it’d be difficult to stay asleep. That would defeat the purpose. Even if he could stay asleep, he didn’t particularly relish the thought of what he’d see in his dreams. 

Over in the corner, EDI’s image appeared on the holo-projector. “Shepard, there is an incoming transmission from the Illusive Man. He is asking for you to speak with him.”

That certainly wasn’t going to improve his mood...

“And let me guess, he’s locked down the galaxy map until I do so, AGAIN?” The only time Shepard had been in contact with the Illusive Man since the Normandy left the Cerberus base without getting locked out of the galaxy map was when Jacob had contacted him after they’d traveled to Aeia. 

“That is correct, Shepard.” With that, EDI’s interface winked out. Shepard sighed, knowing he was going to have to get this over with. With the galaxy map locked down, the Normandy wouldn’t be going anywhere. 

He made his way to the elevator, muttering to himself about what the Illusive Man could want now. He passed through the CIC and into the Armory, tossing Jacob a casual wave as he made his way towards the conference room. When the door slid open, he was surprised to see Kelly Chambers standing there beside the table.

“Yeoman?” he said, now confused. Kelly had never been a part of these discussions. He wasn’t even aware if she’d ever spoken with the Illusive Man in person. 

“Commander,” she said with an acknowledging nod. She looked uncomfortable, out of her element. “The Illusive Man wanted us both here.”

Shepard found himself on edge at that statement. As nice as Kelly was, he’d always been uncomfortable with psychologists. When they’d had dinner in his cabin a while back, she’d clearly been attempting to try her hand at psychoanalysis of his mental state, and he’d brushed her off. Maybe that was going to come back and bite him in the ass.

When the door closed behind him, the table dropped into the floor and the lights dimmed. Shepard stepped into the holographic grid, allowing his image to be transmitted to wherever the Illusive Man hid himself, while for Shepard and Kelly, the image of the Illusive Man appeared.

“Shepard,” the Illusive Man said, puffing on his customary cigarette. 

“Illusive Man. To what do I owe the honor?” Shepard asked, crossing his arms. 

“I’m sure you’re aware that Yeoman Chambers sends me regular updates on the mental health and wellbeing of the Normandy crew.” Shepard nodded. That had been one of the first things she’d explained to him, having wanted to start her working relationship with Shepard with honesty. “She’s brought to my attention that one of your crew is avoiding her attempts to help them work through their psychological issues.”

Shepard hated veiled implications and innuendo. He shook his head. “Cut to the chase. What are you asking me to do?”

As usual, Shepard trying to cut through the bullshit had no effect on the Illusive Man, who simply tapped his cigarette against his ashtray. “On Miss Chambers’ recommendation, I’ve been considering the psychological profiles of your team. I’d like you all to come to one of our facilities for a full psychological workup. Your mission is vital, and I’d hate for someone to cause an issue for you on your mission.”

Because there was no way THAT could go wrong. “I think Jack would have some choice words about Cerberus psychologists poking at her. And Legion resists any of our attempts to scan it. Your techs aren’t going to get better results, I can assure you of that.”

Kelly finally chimed in at that. “I agree on both counts. In point of fact, much of Shepard’s team will have a very negative reaction at any attempt on the part of Cerberus trained psychologists and doctors attempting to diagnose them.”

“I believe, Miss Chambers, that’s why I assigned you to the Normandy. However, even simple observation can tell us a great deal. Your reports say that Commander Shepard has managed to clear their heads for the mission. I’d like to have that confirmed for myself. To that end, Commander, you and your squad will return to Minuteman Station.”

Shepard’s initial response was to be sarcastic. However, he bit that back for the moment, opting not to burn this bridge just yet – the Illusive Man’s intel had so far come like pulling teeth, but what he’d gotten had been useful so far. Though, really, what exactly would he be burning, anyway? “I don’t think this is necessary.”

“I do. And, Commander, according to Yeoman Chambers’ reports, so does she, particularly where you’re concerned. I’ve had EDI lock the course into the shuttle, and it will bring you automatically to Minuteman Station the next time you board it. The galaxy map will continue to be locked down until you arrive. I am not negotiating on this matter.” With that, the Illusive Man’s image winked out, the hologram projectors sliding back into the floor and the briefing table lifted back into place.

Kelly looked abashed, expecting to be the target of Shepard’s ire, but there was still a sense of steel in her spine. “I’m sorry, Commander. But I have a professional duty not to sugarcoat things in my reports. You’ve repeatedly refused my attempts to get you to open up about the trauma you’ve been through. According to EDI, you’re not sleeping. This is unhealthy and even dangerous. Given the importance of our mission-”

Shepard cut her off. “That’s enough, Yeoman. You’ve made your point.” He needed a moment to process and consider everything. “You’re doing your job, Kelly. I understand that.” He was restraining his anger, knowing that Kelly was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing, addressing the concerns of the ship, the crew, and the mission. That knowledge didn’t prevent him from feeling a great deal of anger under the circumstances, but he was trying not to let it out and lash out at her. If this were any other person under Shepard’s command, he’d have approved of her going over their head and letting him know, as she’d repeatedly done for his squad.

That knowledge didn’t take the sting out of it having happened to him, however.

She seemed fully aware of it. “I know, Commander. This is an unusual situation. But if this mission is going to have its best chance for success, then it HAS to have every member of your team going in to it with their head clear. This includes you. In many ways, you need it more than anyone else.”

He knew she was right. She wasn’t acting in anything but a professional, concerned for someone under her care. He understood it.

It didn’t make him feel better, though. 

“I guess we’re going to Minuteman, then.” Shepard sighed in disgust as he headed out of the briefing room. 

***

EDI announced that the Collector IFF installation was taking more time than expected, that the Normandy would need to remain out of FTL travel in order to finish it. Which meant that Shepard had to load up the shuttle with the whole squad. It was cramped, unpleasant, and Jack had choice words throughout the trip. 

“Like hell you’re getting me to let Cerberus get their hands on me,” Jack groused. 

“You’re working on a Cerberus ship, and you’re here,” Miranda countered. Jack’s fist began to glow a vibrant blue.

Shepard practically leapt between them. “Let’s not get into that,” he said, warning them back from one another. The last thing he needed was a repeat of their earlier argument, which had led to Jack threatening to turn Miranda into a bloody splatter on the wall. The space they were in right now was significantly smaller. Frankly, he was surprised that there was room for all twelve of them, though given Cerberus had spent a significant amount of credits to violate the rules of nature to bring him back to life, he wouldn’t put them spending that kind of money to violate the laws of physics and space and make a shuttle that was bigger on the inside. 

He’d love silence on the ride out – it’d take a couple of hours to travel through the relays to Minuteman Station. He knew better than to expect it. 

“So Shep, what is Mister Illusive’s plan here, anyway?” Kasumi asked. 

“Psych evals.”

“Oh, fuck that,” Jack said, rolling her eyes. 

Shepard could have thrown Kelly under the bus, and she could easily be figured to be the culprit, but he wasn’t going to do that. “It’s the Illusive Man’s idea,” he said. The Illusive Man, however, he could easily toss in front of a speeding train, especially if it wasn’t metaphorical. “He wants to make sure we’re all psychologically fit for this mission, since we’re almost ready to head through the Omega 4 Relay.”

“Isn’t that what Yeoman Chambers is here for?” Jacob asked, sounding unconvinced by Shepard’s explanation. Shepard was almost offended – after all, he was lying with the truth. This was based on Kelly’s reports, after all.

“Sapient mental state variable, particularly in times of significant stress. Reasonable to ensure ability to focus on common goal,” Mordin offered.

“I didn’t sign on to get my fucking head shrunk by Cerberus,” Zaeed muttered, though he really didn’t have a whole lot of room to choose, since he was already in the shuttle. Shepard opted not to point it out to him. 

“You were hired by the Illusive Man to help on this mission. I’m fairly certain this falls under the contract you signed,” Miranda pointed out. Zaeed glowered, but that seemed to have him silenced for a while – he’d committed himself, he couldn’t back out now. Not with that challenge.

Tali turned to Miranda, her body language radiating skepticism. “What exactly do Cerberus psychologists know about quarian psychology? Or turian, or drell, or krogan, or-”

“They’ll have access to Yeoman Chambers’ reports on the crew’s mental health, as well as the information available from leading non-human psychologists. Cerberus settles for nothing but the best in its personnel.”

Shepard didn’t need to see under Tali’s mask to see the skeptical eyebrow (or whatever the quarian equivalent was) at that. However, she seemed willing to let the matter drop at that point. Shepard wagered that, if she found something objectionable, at least beyond the general ‘it’s Cerberus’ nature, she’d have cause to use the knife she kept strapped to her boot.

It was going to be a long voyage...

***

Thirteen sapient beings crammed into one shuttle was not an experience that Shepard wanted to experience again, though he knew that he’d have to suffer it through the return trip. Though maybe he could convince them to spare a second shuttle and give them some room to breathe. They were greeted by a Cerberus scientist once they were off the shuttle. 

“Commander Shepard? I’m Doctor Nuwali, head of Cerberus’s psychological analysis department,” the scientist said. She was far too friendly for the reason that they were all there. It immediately put Shepard on guard. He’d been analyzed enough by Cerberus already. Even Yeoman Chambers was stretching his limits. 

Miranda strode forward, intercepting Nuwali. “Doctor. I’m Miranda Lawson. Head of the Lazarus Project.” Most would assume that her brusque attitude towards the doctor was a combination of professional pride in her work (rebuilding Shepard) and arrogance (cutting in front of him). But Shepard spotted the brief glance she’d offered him – she was offering him a way around dealing with a Cerberus scientist, someone looking at him as a science experiment. 

Nuwali shook Miranda’s hand, her attention moving off Shepard and directly to Miranda. “Operative Lawson. I must say, it is wonderful to have a chance to speak with you. The success of the Lazarus Project is revolutionary.”

“And far too costly to attempt to reproduce casually,” Miranda stated, a pointed reminder of just why resurrection wasn’t about to revolutionize science – or life – as they knew it.

The fellow scientist nodded. “Of course. Of course. Just... I wish I could have had a hand in the Lazarus Project.”

“Considering all the staff aside from myself and Operative Taylor died, you may wish to reconsider that.” Miranda did not seem to approve of Nuwali’s excitement. Shepard didn’t entirely blame her. He remembered the way that he’d watched as the mechs in the Lazarus Station had casually mowed down anyone and everyone who got in their way. Whatever had motivated Wilson to betray them had cost too many lives. This knowledge, Shepard was content to let die.

Nuwali’s enthusiasm didn’t seem dimmed in the slightest, her smile remaining untouched. “Obviously, I would hope for a kinder fate, but still. To have been a part of the Lazarus Project... To defy the accepted laws of nature and actually manage resurrection...!”

Shepard took an instant dislike to Nuwali. 

He heard Mordin make an irritated noise. “Clinical dispassion useful at times, but counterproductive when working on an individual level. Better to set patient at ease than treat as a lab experiment.” Shepard had to agree with that, even if he weren’t the lab experiment in question. 

While Nuwali chatted with Miranda in hushed tones, seemingly at Miranda’s insistence, since she refused to speak much louder, seeming to take the standoffishness of the Normandy crew as reason to limit what they were overhearing, she made to lead them through the facility, having a destination in mind. Much as Shepard’s mind rebelled at the thought of getting his head shrunk by Cerberus, he at least had a purpose in mind. He didn’t trust Cerberus, what they were offering with this ‘analysis,’ but he figured he might get a chance to get some information about the organization he might be able to pass along to Anderson or Hackett.

His perusal was halted by Nuwali stopping at a set of double doors. “Commander Shepard, I’m going to have to ask that you wait in here,” she said.

“Excuse me?” Splitting up hadn’t been discussed.

“The Illusive Man wanted you do undergo a separate evaluation from your companions.” Seemingly sensing his discomfort for the first time, she gave what was probably meant as an encouraging smile, but given her dismissive approach towards him so far, it just came across as insincere. “I promise you, Commander, everything we are doing here is entirely non-invasive.”

Her assurances did nothing to comfort Shepard. He looked to Miranda, gauging her reaction to the request. Despite Jack having dubbed her a ‘Cerberus cheerleader,’ he’d noticed lately that there’d been a bit of doubt starting to creep into her voice when she talked about Cerberus. If she could feel comfortable with what Nuwali was suggesting, he’d go. 

Miranda scowled, seeming equally unenthused at the concept of splitting up. But she nodded understandingly. “Confidentiality. It may be hard to believe, but Cerberus does have a grasp of ethics,” she said.

There were a round of skeptical noises from the group and a bark of derisive laughter from Jack at that idea, but it was Miranda’s endorsement, though it seemed reluctantly given. It wasn’t as good as Shepard might have hoped, but it was her offering some kind of approval of Nuwali’s request. Reluctantly, Shepard nodded.

“All right,” he said, though he couldn’t shake an uneasiness. Something about this whole situation made him uncomfortable. Granted, it could just be the fact that he was on a Cerberus station, but... There was something in the back of his mind. It was like there was something he was missing. It could just be a general anxiety and discomfort with Cerberus, however, as Shepard had had the niggling feeling that the Illusive Man had selected sympathetic faces to pack in on the Normandy, as opposed to people who reflected the heart and soul of the organization. He knew that he couldn’t trust the organization that Cerberus claimed to be. And this place was definitely a Cerberus organization. The people here were at best well meaning, but that wasn’t something he was truly going to bet his life on.

He looked around the room as the door closed behind him. There was a table and chairs, typical for what Shepard would consider an interrogation room. On the table, though... There was a silver sphere that almost appeared to be floating. Shepard could recognize prothean technology on sight, and this was not encouraging. He didn’t appreciate the ambush.

Before he could walk back out the door, the orb began to glow and produce a loud thrumming sound. Shepard reached for his weapon, glad that Miranda had secured the right to keep them. Before his hand could wrap around the grip, though, the orb pulsed, a beam of energy jumping out from it and striking Shepard. 

The light from the energy burst caused Shepard to raise a hand, shielding his eyes from the brightness. It was momentary, not lasting long, but when Shepard’s vision cleared... he was no longer in the Cerberus room.

He found himself now in a dark corridor. Gingerly, he attempted to move forward, pleased to note that his limbs didn’t seem impacted by the flash of light. Prothean technology could have odd effects on a person – he still sometimes wondered how much of an effect the beacon on Eden Prime, plus the second one he’d interfaced with on Virmire, had had on his brain. It wasn’t as if there were experts on that.

He moved forward, stumbling blindly in the dark. But it wasn’t as if he could stay where he was. In his experience, it never paid to stand around in one location. Inevitably, someone would start shooting at you. A bright light suddenly winked on before him, and again he raised a hand to shield his eyes.

When it faded... He immediately stiffened. It couldn’t be. 

He was standing in Saren’s cloning lab on Virmire, specifically in the detonation site of the nuke that had blown it up.

While he struggled to make sense of it – this place had been destroyed, nuked, atomized, there was nothing left but dust and charred rock – he suddenly heard a series of geth spitfires, their weapons having a distinct sound.

He turned and caught sight of a flash of familiar armor.

It couldn’t be.

“Ash?”

“Commander! Move!” Ashley Williams shouted, firing back at the geth. She’d emerged from one of the passages, her gun in hand. She dropped into cover, even as another barrage spat out of the open doorway. 

A few random shots pinged near Shepard, giving him the push he needed to head into cover himself, even as his head spun. Ashley had died on Virmire, when the nuke had detonated. He’d left her and part of Kirrahe’s STG squad to face a barrage of geth attackers as he’d returned to the nuke and Kaidan, wanting to protect the nuke from being tampered with by any of the geth. The rational part of his mind said that he’d made the tactical choice, that the nuke going off was the goal, that Ashley had been part of the distraction team. His heart had never agreed, blaming himself for not being able to bring everyone home that day.

“Shepard! I need some help here!” she called out. That brought him out of the daze of uncertainty of what was happening and he grabbed his gun and started firing. The geth came in three waves, but he and Ashley had a lot of experience with fighting them. When the geth Prime blew, it seemed the geth were routed, at least for the time being. 

Ashley sighed in relief and holstered her gun. “Well. That could have gone a lot worse.”

“Ash... What... what’s going on?”

“Could ask you the same thing, Skipper. You’re working with Cerberus? After what they did to Admiral Kahoku? To your squad on Akuze? And you think they’re worth working with? You saw what they were messing with. Husks, thorian creepers, rachni? And you thought you’d throw in with them?”

Ashley’s words were nothing Shepard hadn’t said to himself a thousand times over. Still, it hit hard what she was saying. It was being judged by not just a friend, but by the dead. 

She looked at him, concern tempering anger. “Look. I get it. The Collectors are a threat. The Council isn’t doing anything. Someone needs to step up to the plate, and it’s not something you can do alone. But Cerberus? You can’t trust them, Shepard.”

“I’m not trusting Cerberus blindly. I know the Illusive Man wants to try to convince me that he’s only interested in the greater good. I know he just wants more power for himself, and pretends it’s for humanity.” The defense wasn’t much, Shepard knew, but... “I had to do something, Ash. Who else was?” That was the kicker, wasn’t it? The Council had declared this an ‘internal human affair,’ despite owing humanity their lives. The Alliance’s hands were bound by the Council, given their losses at the Battle of the Citadel, and they couldn’t offer more than a few token gestures, mostly in the form of Anderson passing him what information he could.

“You know that’s not enough, Shepard. You’re a Spectre. You’re the Hero of the Citadel. Surely you could get someone to listen. The galaxy’s already accepted that you’re not dead. Anderson, Hackett... They’d help. Why are you with Cerberus still?”

It was a question he’d considered more than once. He wanted to say it was purely to complete the mission, that there was no way that he’d have really been able to leave the Illusive Man’s clutches until this was over, knowing that the crew on the Normandy was mostly Cerberus loyalists, that even if he tried to abandon the Normandy on the Citadel, hand the ship over to Anderson and the Alliance, all that would happen would be that the Normandy would be impounded, her crew arrested, and the Collectors given free run to do whatever it was they were doing. 

But there was still something else that stopped him. “I don’t... Ash, I died.”

That made her pause, her gaze to soften slightly. “So did I.” It wasn’t an admonishment. It was a statement of understanding. 

“Cerberus... They rebuilt me. They took my body and they... they managed to piece it back together. To something that resembled who I was before. I can’t... If I don’t do something, if I don’t finish this mission... That’s always going to be over my head. That I was brought back, and... and I just...”

Now, though, she did laugh at the idea. “That you owe Cerberus? That you owe a bunch of terrorists for defying natural laws to bring you back from a dead husk? Shepard... Whatever they’re doing, whatever they’ve sold you on, you know that all Cerberus has been doing is treating you as an asset. The minute you turn on the Illusive Man, no matter what you’ve don’t, you don’t think he’ll decide to gun for you? And you know he’d feel no willingness to be on your side if the situation was reversed.”

It wasn’t a revelation. It wasn’t something that Shepard hadn’t been absolutely aware of before. But it still felt like someone showing up and making a blatant reminder of the obvious, of the things he needed to hear. It was a splash of cold water and a reminder that, regardless of the necessity of what he was doing, Shepard needed to get out of this situation immediately.

“You’re right, Ash.”

She smiled. “Of course I am.”

“I need to get out of the Illusive Man’s grasp. I shouldn’t even be on this Cerberus station...” He trailed off as he remembered where he’d been before Ashley had started speaking to him.

In that moment, the cloning lab vanished, taking Ashley with it. He was in the darkened passage again, another white light ahead of him. He had a feeling of how this would go, and he moved towards the light. 

The light faded, and Shepard found himself in the Council Chambers. There were burning fires, alarms blaring, and a general sense of chaos. He was at the Battle of the Citadel. 

He could hear the indistinct binary gibberish of the geth language (even with Legion, he couldn’t really consider the spurts of binary language to his ear, just sputters of computerized buzzing), and knew he’d have to fight his way through them. 

Fortunately, unlike at the recreation of the Virmire cloning lab, there was no geth Prime for him to tackle, as this time he was all alone. 

Or at least, he was alone until he reached the main control console. Because flying around on that hovering platform was Saren Arterius.

“Shepard.”

“Saren.” Shepard took aim at the rogue Spectre, but Saren laughed him off.

“Come now, Shepard. We both know that won’t do anything. I am a ghost. A specter, if you’ll excuse the pun.”

Shepard scowled, but knew that the turian had a point. He’d been there, had seen Saren die twice. A third time would just be excessive. “What are you doing here, then?”

“Call me the... what’s the human phrase... the devil on your shoulder. You’ve seen how powerful the Reapers are. How many ships were lost at the Battle of the Citadel, again? What kind of dent did one Reaper make on the Council’s resources? Now... Now you know that the Reapers have been doing this, have been harvesting organic life every fifty thousand years for at least thirty-seven million years. Now, that math may be beyond you, but the short version is that there’s likely at least one Reaper for every capital ship in the combined fleets. Are you maybe beginning to think that I had a point? That submission would be preferable to extinction, when faced with those odds? It’s a hopeless fight.”

Saren had, Shepard had forgotten, clearly been in love with the sound of his own voice. Any point he’d ever had was buried under a self-serving monologue that reinterpreted the facts to fit his worldview. But that point was still one that struck a chord with Shepard. Thirty-seven million years was the conservative estimate. Who knew how many cycles there had actually been? The Reapers claimed to be infinite. Sovereign had said ‘we have no beginning, we have no end.’ Even if the statement wasn’t literal, it still said that the Reapers had likely been around for so long even they couldn’t recall when they’d been created.

In practical terms, even if the galaxy banded together to fight the Reapers, how could they ever gather enough firepower to actually make a difference? It took fleets to defeat a single Reaper. 

Still, Shepard wasn’t about to let even an illusion of Saren get that point in. “I’d sooner die fighting than give in to the Reapers.”

“Still so stubborn. You can’t see the value in allowing the Reapers to win.”

“They’d kill everyone, human, turian, asari... Anyone not like them, they’d either kill, turn into husks, or whatever it is that the Collectors are abducting people for. There’s nothing to be gained in joining with the Reapers!” Shepard had never accepted Saren’s ideas, and had no intention of starting to now.

Saren shook his head. “You refuse to understand, don’t you? The Reapers are more than just ancient machines. They’re the closest we may ever come to the face of true divinity. You must understand how glorious the transformation they offer will be. You learned as much yourself from your new mechanical ally.”

“What’s Legion got to do with this?” Shepard demanded. 

“The geth told you about ‘Nazara,’ how the ‘programs’ within Sovereign called themselves that. Don’t you understand? ‘Nazara’ was the species that made the Reaper I called Sovereign. Your species will survive, in a new and glorious form!”

Shepard stared at Saren in shock. He’d been assuming that whatever was happening to him was all in his mind, that it was some prothean method of having an actual discussion with various parts of himself, but he was absolutely worried if some part of his mind was using Saren as a mouthpiece. This was one of the most deranged things he’d ever heard. 

“I’ll die before I let the Reapers make me one of them!”

Saren chuckled. “Ah, but Shepard. How do you think that Cerberus could resurrect you, revive you, rebuild you based entirely on modern science? Don’t you think that Reaper technology has already been involved in your continued success? Are you already in part one of them?”

Shepard hesitated. Saren was not entirely wrong. How much of Shepard was truly human at this point? His bones and muscles were enhanced with Cerberus cybernetics and devices. He’d been hacked by David Archer back at Project Overlord, could the same thing happen again, this time by the Reapers themselves?

Saren pounced on that moment of hesitation. “Don’t you see, Shepard? You’re already the foundation. You are the harbinger of a new breed. Organic and synthetic, blended together!”

“Even if... Even if you’re right, the Reapers aren’t looking for a compromise. They don’t want to coexist. They want to wipe us all out!” Shepard knew that much for certain. Sovereign had offered no alternative. Even the fact that Sovereign had been destroyed hadn’t been enough for them. Whatever this ‘Harbinger’ he’d encountered on Horizon and the Collector vessel was, whether that was a Reaper or just a Collector controller, it might want to examine and dissect Shepard, but it had little concern for Shepard as a unique individual. It just wanted to put him under a microscope.

The hovering turian scowled at Shepard, seemingly annoyed that the lowly human below him couldn’t understand his logic, his genius. “You’re a fool, Shepard. I should have known better than to try to convince you. You couldn’t accept my ideas before, why would you even attempt to now?” And, with that, Saren’s biotics flared and Shepard moved behind the cover to avoid getting hit by the blast. 

As Saren hovered around, Shepard managed to fire back, and, after a few minutes of heavy fire, struck the engine keeping the platform in the air, sending Saren crashing down into the same area where Sovereign had taken control of his body.

Jumping down to him, Shepard could see that the turian had survived that, was attempting to crawl out of the ruined husk that was his former floating platform.

Saren looked to him as he recognized the futility of his efforts. “So. Here we are. Again.”

“For the last time. I hope I never see your face again,” Shepard gritted out.

“You should be... so lucky, human,” Saren hissed out. Shepard pulled the trigger.

Then the Citadel vanished. Shepard was back in the black halls, looking at a bright light. He only wished he was surprised that he was back here. There wasn’t much in the way of surprise about it, it seemed inevitable at this point. 

The light faded again, and this time... Shepard found himself in the Cerberus station that he’d been rebuilt on. A shudder went down his spine. He hadn’t wanted to be back here. At the time, it’d just been chaos, having to move too quickly for him to really think about anything that he was going through. But once he’d had an opportunity to think... This was the place he’d been rebuilt, taken from a chunk of meat and bone and made back into a person.

He doubted he’d find anything just standing around, staying behind in the same hangar that he, Miranda, and Jacob had escaped from. He moved through the facility, back through the path that he’d taken the first time through. He was waiting the whole time for a batch of LOKI mechs, or, god help him, a YMIR mech, to appear, but he seemed to luck out on that account, as none came. The facility itself seemed to be far from the panic and chaos that had marked his prior trip through here.

He reached the room he’d met Jacob in and stopped abruptly. Ahead of him, two figures were gently conversing, seemingly unaware of his arrival.

It was Miranda and Liara.

“You understand that this isn’t going to be easy, of course,” Miranda was saying.

“I recognize that,” Liara returned.

“He’s been dead for months. Realistically, there is a chance that if this is successful, what comes out of this won’t be Shepard. We are, of course, making every effort to do so... But Shepard’s going to be both the test subject and end result. If this fails...”

“I know!” Liara repeated.

Shepard knew that he couldn’t possibly be seeing and hearing something that had actually taken place between them. Even if they had spoken, they certainly hadn’t done so when he’d be in a position to overhear them. He probably hadn’t even had ears at that point. But the rational knowledge didn’t offer him much in the way of comfort. 

They were discussing him. They were discussing his corpse. They were discussing their attempt to bring life back to his corpse.

“Just making sure you’re fully aware of all the consequences of this action. It’s nowhere near an exact science.”

“But you can bring him back?”

“That is the plan. Obviously, there are no guarantees. But Cerberus has the resources. If anyone can do this, it’s my team. We’re the best humanity has to offer.”

Liara closed her eyes, then, after a moment’s pause, nodded. “Then do it.”

“How could you do this?” The words tore out of Shepard’s throat, an accusing cry. He hadn’t realized it had been building in him until they’d emerged, but now that he’d started, it was like a dam had broken. 

The two images of Liara and Miranda didn’t seem to react to his initial words, though they did stop talking. 

“I didn’t ask for this. You decided that you’d bring me back, but who gave you the right? Who said you were right to play god, to choose to drag me back, just for your own selfish desires?!” This had been building inside him, and he hadn’t even been entirely aware of it. 

As if in response to him, though without looking at him, Miranda looked to Liara. “The galaxy needs Commander Shepard. No one else can do what he does. He’s a hero, a bloody icon. Humanity and the Council races need him.”

“And what about my needs? You decided you’d play god, just because you could. Because you decided you needed Commander Shepard. You didn’t give a damn about me, about letting me rest.”

“You’re certain that you’ll bring him back as he was?”

“Like I said, there aren’t any guarantees. But that is our goal. If Commander Shepard doesn’t come back exactly as he was, then the Lazarus Project will be a failure. And I refuse to let that happen.”

Shepard shook his head, having enough, barging between them both. He glared at Miranda. “And you don’t think that the trauma of being brought back to life would be something that changed me? That dying wouldn’t have had an effect on me?” Then he turned to Liara. “You were someone I thought was my friend! How could you do this? Because you couldn’t ‘let me go’? I wasn’t yours to have in the first place!”

For a moment, both of the images of the women were silent. Then Liara looked to Shepard. “And in my place? Would you have let the best hope for the galaxy die?”

He shook his head. “That’s a justification and you know it. You wanted to bring me back for you, not the galaxy.” She didn’t argue. She looked away. “You built a myth in your head, that Commander Shepard was the most important person in the galaxy, in your life, and that I couldn’t die in some freak accident over a forgotten planet. Did you expect I’d thank you for this? Did you think I’d pull you close and tell you that this was the right thing? You never asked yourself if this was what I wanted!”

At this, Miranda moved into his field of vision. “The galaxy is at stake, Shepard. What you want is secondary at best. What the galaxy needs is you. No one else could do what you’ve done. You survived Akuze. You killed Saren. You defeated a Reaper. If anyone could give the rest of the Reapers pause, it’s you.”

Shepard glared at her. “I would expect that from you, from Cerberus. Your mission statement is that the ends justify the means.”

Suddenly Ashley was there as well, stepping forward, scowling at Miranda and Liara both. “This is sick. It’s indefensible. How could you think this is right?”

And then Saren was there. “It was the best choice imaginable. So one individual’s desires are ignored for the greater good. A small price to pay.” He scoffed, looking to Shepard. “You complain about being alive?”

“I’d expect that callousness from a Reaper puppet,” Ashley shot back at him. She looked to Miranda. “And a Cerberus fanatic.” 

Then, to Shepard mutual surprise and lack of it, Kaidan was there as well. “The question isn’t why. That ship’s sailed. It’s been done.” He reached out, placing a gentle hand on Shepard’s shoulder. “How do you move forward from here?”

Finally, Liara pulled her head up. “Yes. That should be where you focus from here, Shepard. We can’t change the past.”

“It’s time to define the future,” Saren stated.

Suddenly, it was as if there was a spotlight on him. All five of the people around him were looking to him, waiting for his response.

“This... I didn’t want to be brought back. I can’t let go of that in one grand gesture,” he said. “I can’t forgive this. This wasn’t what I wanted.” In saying that, there was still a sense of relief. He hadn’t said that since being brought back. He’d talked around it, avoided the subject, even turned it into a joke. He looked to the crowd around him. “It might be what the greater good called for, but don’t I ever get the chance to... to do something for me?”

There was no answer. Instead, the images of the others began to fade. Shepard soon found himself alone in the Cerberus facility. 

He had a feeling that meant that this wasn’t done. He took a deep breath and moved forward, until he found himself facing the door to the lab he’d woken up in. He reached to open the door, and realized that his hand was shaking. Whatever was on the other side... He wasn’t sure he wanted to face it. He knew he had to, but he wasn’t sure that he was ready for it.

He took a deep breath... and hit the door switch.

The room was clean and sterile, having a faint hint of disinfectant lingering in the air. The lab table in the center of the room was really the only thing that could catch anyone’s eye.

And sitting on it was Shepard’s mirror image.

“You had to figure that you’d eventually see me,” it said as it pulled itself off of the medical bed. Shepard had. This had been a journey into, through his own mind. What was the point if he didn’t actually get the opportunity to converse with himself? Kelly would be proud.

“So... Why am I... Why are WE here?” he asked. 

“Lot of thoughts going on. Questions of death, rebirth... Lot of things that should be said. You started saying them. Think you’re finished?”

“I might never be. How many people have died around me? Akuze, Virmire, the Normandy? Why am I the one who was brought back? Why do this for me and not them?”

The mirror image shrugged. “You’re the leader. You’re the inspiration. You’re the reason people are willing to stand up, pick up their gun and fight back. That makes you important.”

Shepard shook his head. “That’s not enough. I don’t want to be this figure that other people have made me. I had... I had my own hopes and dreams. Being The Commander Shepard, being this hero and icon... That wasn’t anything I wanted.”

“It’s not like our lives progress in the way we intend. Surviving Akuze said you were different.”

“I always said it made me lucky. A lot of people I cared about died that day. They were my friends, my family. They didn’t deserve what happened to them.”

The other Shepard nodded. “Few people ever do deserve what they get. That’s not the real question you face, however. Whether or not you want this, this life, this responsibility, whatever else you might have chosen for your life, or your death, you’re here now.” There was a pause, a brief silence, that stretched on uncomfortably.

When Shepard didn’t say anything, that was when the other Shepard on the bed seemed to really get going. “Isn’t that the thing you’ve been avoiding dealing with? Not just that you were brought back, but what you’ll do with yourself now that it’s happened. You might have accepted that you’re not dead, but you don’t know what you’re going to do now that you’re alive.”

Again, Shepard let the words linger in the air for a moment, but this time, he knew that the mirror image of himself was waiting for a response. “I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about it. Not just being dead... but how to live again. Because... even if it was just two years, it’s still time that I lost. Things changed. People did. Do I still have a place, not as the icon, the hero... Is there a place for the human being I am?”

“How can there be, if all you do is bounce around, following the order and demands of someone who clearly views you as a disposable tool, one that he’ll probably do sooner, rather than later.”

The Illusive Man had shown a willingness to toss Shepard at threats with little desire or inclination to ensure that he made it out alive. For all that the Illusive Man wanted Shepard to believe that they were on the same side, Shepard could be certain that he knew better.

“So, what, you’re saying that if I break away from the Illusive Man, from Cerberus, that’s going to solve all my problems?”

The image of himself shrugged. “Isn’t having problems a sign that you’re human? As long as you’re still struggling, you’re still human.” Shepard couldn’t argue with that fact. “If you get a chance to breathe, you can decide what you can do next. While you can’t walk away from any of this...”

“...I can make a choice as to how I want to deal with it all. To accept that... no matter what else, I’m a part of this, and will be until it’s over.” Shepard nodded. That was something. He knew that he had to fight the Reapers, and that was something that he could stand with, for now at least. He looked again to the image of himself. “What about after that?”

“After that... It’s all up to you. You get to make the decisions at that point. Commander Shepard will be the man of legend. The man you are, the man you want to be... You can let it all go if you want.”

There were a couple of ways that Shepard could take that statement. He wasn’t sure how he wanted to, but it wasn’t something that he particularly needed to focus on, at least for the time being. There’d be time for it, but later.

He knew better than to believe that his mind was fully at ease at this point. There was a lot that he doubted he’d touched on. A jaunt like this... there was no way it could grasp the complexity of the mind. He’d only scratched the surface. But it was something. It was a step.

And then, abruptly, he was back in the Cerberus room, the one that Doctor Nuwali had insisted he enter alone, with the prothean artifact lying on the table. 

Shepard took a brief moment to get his bearings. There was nothing to indicate that any time had passed, but a quick tap to his visor told him he’d been in here for about five minutes. 

That was already too much time.

He turned and hit the switch for the door. He could hear Nuwali’s voice carrying and could tell that she hadn’t gotten the others very far. Too busy, he assumed, patting herself on the back and attempting to suck up to Miranda, maybe get some information about the details of the Lazarus Project.

He followed the sound down the hall and found his squad standing by a door, Nuwali’s words becoming clear at this point.

“...simply run a few psychological tests. Everything about this is perfectly harmless!”

“Like the ‘perfectly harmless’ tests you sick fucks did to me?” Jack spat, her biotics flaring.

Nuwali looked unsettled and glanced to Miranda, as if asking her to smooth over the poor choices in words. Miranda actually looked inclined to side with Jack at the moment, though Shepard knew he shouldn’t ever mentioned that to her. 

He strode down the hall to rejoin his team. Nuwali noticed his approach. “Commander! You... you shouldn’t be out until the tests are-”

“The tests are over,” he declared. He looked to the others. “Head back to the shuttle. We’re leaving.”

There was a brief look of confusion among the team, but they hadn’t been particularly enamored of the idea of Cerberus running psych tests on them to begin with. “Works for me,” Garrus stated.

“Waste of time...” Grunt muttered.

“Coulda been dealing with more scum with the time we wasted here,” Zaeed added. Still, the group began to shuffle back towards the bay.

Nuwali, however, looked shocked. “You... you can’t just leave!” she exclaimed. “We have orders from the Illusive Man to-”

“Tell the Illusive Man that if he has a problem with the state of mind of my crew, he shouldn’t have arranged for them to join in the first place. My people are not playthings for Cerberus to toy with. Either we’re fit for duty or we’re not, but the Illusive Man can’t have things both ways.” Shepard knew that, at least until the Collectors were dealt with, he couldn’t cut ties with Cerberus entirely, but he had now promised himself that there was an explicit deadline. They got back to the Normandy, they would make a plan for using the IFF, and they’d finish the Collectors. After that, he’d take the Normandy straight to Alliance HQ, and if he had to, he’d personally disconnect EDI if she tried, or was forced by her AI shackles, to stop him.

Miranda looked at Shepard appraisingly, having held back as the others began heading for the shuttle. “You seem... different, somehow, Shepard,” she said softly as he joined her, having turned his back on Nuwali.

“I couldn’t possibly be different, now could I? Wasn’t the Lazarus Project supposed to bring me back exactly as I was?”

“If I may say so, Commander... There DID seem to have been something a little off about you. It was small, not quite the same as, say, the man who spared the rachni queen suddenly deciding he should have executed her. But it was noticeable. There was some of the fire missing. But that fire seemed to be back, given how you spoke with Doctor Nuwali.”

Although Jack had dubbed Miranda a Cerberus cheerleader from pretty much the moment she’d boarded the Normandy, Shepard had noticed that Miranda wasn’t quite the same adamant supporter of Cerberus as of late. So he opted to tell her at least something of what had happened. “There was a prothean artifact in that room. Something that... Let me spend some time in my own head. Face some things about myself that... I’d been avoiding.”

“I see.” She was silent a moment. “I wonder if that’s what that was used for by the protheans.”

“I’d be more curious about why the Illusive Man would have wanted me to experience something like that.” It didn’t exactly make sense for the Illusive Man to put Shepard in contact with something that would remind him that he really didn’t have a reason to offer Cerberus any loyalty or sympathy, regardless of what they’d done for him.

Miranda shrugged. “Most likely, the Illusive Man was attempting to ensure that your head was clear. Given my reports to him, he had to know that you’ve been ensuring that for your squad. It’s only natural to want to do that for you.” The words sounded like a simple report of facts. But the way she said it... It sounded like Miranda was clutching a straw, wanting that to be the Illusive Man’s rationale.

Shepard thought it entirely possible that the Illusive Man could have been attempting to find some way to indoctrinate him, using some innocuous object like a prothean artifact, something that Shepard had experience with. He figured he’d never know for sure, but at least he’d managed to break out of it with a new certainty that he needed to get away from Cerberus and soon.

And maybe... Maybe he’d be taking a few people with him.


End file.
